


I Care About You

by All_Might_Ships_EraserMic



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Appendicitis, Fluff, M/M, Medical, Sick Character, Sick Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Sickfic, Vomit, Whump, Worried Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:01:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28209486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_Might_Ships_EraserMic/pseuds/All_Might_Ships_EraserMic
Summary: Geralt gets sick and has no idea what could be causing it. Looks like it’s Jaskier’s turn to save the day.*A fun little thing I wrote very late at night. Hope y'all enjoy :)
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 4
Kudos: 87





	1. chapter 1

As Geralt lurched off of Roach’s back to be sick for the fifth time that day, Jaskier asked, “Are you sure it isn’t a curse?”

“Hm.”

Well, it wasn’t like Jaskier had expected a better answer than that. He was fairly certain it wasn’t, since Geralt would probably be showing more urgency about it. And yet, there was that one time where he was cursed for a whole week and somehow never revealed it... 

Hours later, Jaskier was beginning to feel sick himself. He had never been around many ill people before, and it was hard to be nurturing when he could barely stand the smell of vomit. Geralt’s stomach had emptied long ago, and now Jaskier watched him dry heave into his clenched fist every once in awhile, not even bothering to stop and rest anymore. 

The tenth time it happened, Jaskier was done. “That’s it. We don’t need to reach Oxenfurt for another week, so stopping at the next town for a night won’t hurt us.”

“No. I have a job to get to.” 

Jaskier did remember- a professor had written to the witcher a few weeks ago, begging for help. The poor fool had somehow managed to grow an archespore in his basement- it was still too small to be dangerous, but soon it would be full grown. They needed to reach it before that happened. Besides, the professor had promised a good deal of coin. 

Jaskier gently reached over Roach’s soft side and touched Geralt on the arm. “And you think you help like this? You can barely sit upright!”

“Hmm. M’ fine.”

“No, Geralt!” Jaskier snapped, “You’re not ‘hmm’-ing this away. Where does it hurt?”

The bard’s suddenly steely gaze told Geralt that he better not lie. It was a strange feeling, the sudden flood of hot shame that the witcher suddenly felt sinking into his chest. 

“My stomach hurts.”

Jaskier frowned. That wasn’t exactly a gold mine of information, but it was a treasure trove compared to Geralt’s normal vocabulary. “Which part?”

“My right side.”

The pieces of the puzzle clicked in Jaskier’s head, and his eyes grew wide. “Do you have an appendix?”

Geralt blinked, confused. “A what?”

“An appendix. It’s a tiny organ in your gut. It’s not really important, but it can get inflamed and then it has to be taken out. Had mine out when I was seven.”

Jaskier lifted his shirt to show the tiny little scar, barely visible after so many years. 

“I doubt that witchers have those.”

Despite his friend’s protests, Jaskier was becoming more and more convinced that he was correct in his appendicitis theory. He stayed as quiet as he could as Geralt forced himself to continue riding, praying that the proud witcher would let them stop as soon as they reached a town. 

The witcher clearly wasn’t doing well, although he did his best to conceal it. Geralt sat hunched over in the saddle, his long white hair hiding his facial expression as he kept one hand pressed into his side. His attempts to retain the stoic and unconquerable appearance of a witcher was failing rapidly.

Just as Geralt began to sway on Roach’s back, the edges of a town came into view. Eyeing the buildings nervously, Jaskier prayed that this tiny backwater smudge would have a healer. 

“Geralt, stay here a moment. I’m going to find us some lodgings.”

As much as it worried him, Jaskier was relieved when Geralt made no move to get off of Roach. Instead of the promised lodgings, Jaskier made a beeline for the closest probable place of healing- a small peach-toned cottage with an air around it that the bard could only describe as ‘magicky’. 

Turns out that the peach cottage inhabitant wasn’t a healer, but a sweet young woman called Daisy who offered magic assistance of a more intimate nature.

“I’m afraid that there’s not a healer for another couple of towns north. Do you think he could make it?” Jaskier’s face fell as the bard realized that two towns north would be at least a few days’ worth of travel. Geralt would never make it. 

Daisy laid a hand on Jaskier’s forearm, shaking him out of his worried thoughts. “From the way you just paled, it seems unlikely.”

“My main talent lies in seductive and romantic aids, yes.” Daisy paused, turning her gaze towards the silent, hunched over Geralt. “But I do have some surgical experience related to farm animals. I will do what I can.”

Jaskier nodded, and let Daisy prepare. This wasn’t a great plan- it wasn’t even a good one. 

But it was the only plan they had.


	2. Chapter 2

Jaskier had never been a man who could sit still easily. 

He paced, then paced some more, then played bits and pieces of song, unable to concentrate on any one tune long enough to finish it. Even after all that, Daisy’s door showed no signs of opening any time soon. How long did surgery take anyway? Jaskier hoped that the long wait wasn’t a sign of something wrong. 

After an eternity of waiting, an exhausted Daisy stumbled outside. Jaskier gasped at the blood on her clothes, but she waved him away. “He’s recovering. Your friend is lucky, his appendix hadn’t exploded yet so I was able to remove it without an excessive amount of trouble. He will be alright, given time and rest.”

Jaskier nodded and thanked her as quickly as he politely could before dashing inside.

The witcher was barely awake, cat eye pupils just slightly visible under tired lids. It wasn’t too surprising to see him awake- Geralt never stayed down as long as a normal man. 

“How’s it going big guy?”

Geralt mumbled something unintelligible as a reply, and Jaskier smiled, taking one of Geralt’s hands in his own, massaging gentle circles into his friend’s skin. “Daisy did a great job. You’re going to be alright, you can relax. Just trust me and sleep alright?”

Geralt’s eyes closed completely, and Jaskier brought out his lute. Just before he started to play, Geralt whispered,

“I always trust you.”

Then he was asleep, and Jaskier played a soft soothing melody, a grin heating his cheeks. 

They were going to be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for a shorter chapter here but I had fun writing this. :)


End file.
